


see me (and go through hell)

by shokubeni



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle of Hogwarts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shokubeni/pseuds/shokubeni
Summary: during the battle of hogwarts theodore nott waits, until he manages to go outside and face what it seems his worst fear and his biggest release: the death of his father





	see me (and go through hell)

**Author's Note:**

> i have been wanting to write something like this for months and i got very inspired all of the sudden, i... am not sure if this could be really canon-placed because honestly i have no idea what happened to the slytherin students during the battle so i am just winging it.

It's very easy to go unnoticed when the world doesn't see you, even if the world is set on flames.  
It's very easy to notice things and look around, even more when no one sees you in return.  
And from a privileged place of silence and invisibility, Theodore Nott looks around and _sees_. 

Stripped away from agency, from _choosing_ , all the body of the Slytherin students are locked away, while the world is burning and crashing outside the thick walls of the dungeons. No one is talking, and the atmosphere is dark and gloom, because while they are locked away there, most of their families are fighting outside. 

Some of them are even  _expected there,_ between hexes and screams, to redeem and fight for the noble cause of the Dark Lord. Whether they want to or not,  _expectation_ is something very common in the house of the silver and the green, but no one really seems to ask about what lies underneath all of that.

And all he can read it's apprehension, hurt and remorse. Fear and panic and worry. But he doesn't see much of a fiery and impulsive need of meeting the expectations of what's supposed to be a proud snake. He sees eyes sparkling with the seeking for survival, for seeing another day, and maybe, just  _maybe,_ to get to know if those familiar faces fighting outside are going to face another day with them.

And he knows, that among the loyal servants and fighters of the Dark Lord, his father is there, somewhere, leading the fight; and the turmoil of feelings inside of his chest make his fingers tremble. He has never wanted to do anything with it, and the older he became and the more neutrality he showed to his father, the more he exposed himself to screams that pierced his mind and diffindo spells that pierced his flesh.

Theodore Nott wonders about what he's more scared about, about the worst case scenario.  
His father being killed, his father finding him and either  _kill him_ , or forcing him outside to face classmates and professors in a fight, a victory and reign of Voldermort, or Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, saving the day and becoming the saviour of the wizarding world. 

While the world is crushing and burning, Theodore Nott just waits.

And he almost misses it, at first, because silence is something he's more than used to, welcoming, comforting, like an old sweater he loves to wear. But there's this gap between his silence, and the world turning quiet and  _dead_ around them, and a strong feeling, like a wave of nausea, shakes up Theodore Nott's slim body.

And a strong urge of  _leaving_ , of  _checking_ , of making  _sure_ .  
No one notices him when he leaves, even if everyone is ready to run away as well.

It's very easy to move around when the world doesn't see you, but even for everlasting invisible Theodore Nott, running away when you're wearing the skin and the colours of the enemy it's not really the best of the moves.

But Theodore Nott needs to see, as he runs and runs through half destroyed corridors he has spent the last years of his life in, as he brushes through old classmates and people who look at him like they are not sure he's someone they should hex and charge against. As Theodore Nott just looks around and sees dead bodies and injuries and pain, his heart beating so forcefully he feels it in his throat, all the noise blurring around him.

It's not hard to miss, it seems like the casualties of the Death Eaters do not seem to deserve the same kind of organization, and care, as the war heroes does. And Theodore Nott  _understands_ , he's not here to kowtow and mourn and honour anyone, he's not here to shed tears, he's not here to weep about the loss of an upcoming bright future of pure blood supremacy.

Theodore Nott just wants to make sure his father is dead.  
He wants to know he can turn a page too heavy for him to pass on for years.

It's so easy to find him, like he's being pulled onto him, and even with the Death Eater mask, he would recognise his father anywhere. Even dead, lifeless, Theo feels the weight his father's presence has on him, his body big and compact in contrast of his own, and he cannot help to fall on his knees next to him.

He feels like he's nine years old again, but this time, instead of the deep, inconsolable sadness of staring at the body of his mother, Theodore Nott feels all his being tore into a myriad of pieces. 

A part of him thinks he has to stay there and mourn the death of a  _father_ , even if Theo can't remember a time he thought of his father as someone to admire and look up to, another part of him wants to laugh, be happy to see the person who has brought him so much pain and sorrow and fear lying lifeless on the floor, another part of him seeks for revenge and is  _angry_ that it wasn't his wand the one who sent his father to this state, for his mother, for the screams, for the scars adorning his arms and his wrists.

And the panic rushes onto him making his entire body tremble, his throat closing up until taking a breath feels like trying to gasp while being inside water, his eyes are blurring with tears and his nails are digging through the fabric of his trousers. A panic attack is not something foreign to Theodore Nott and possibly, the most normal thing to happen in a situation like the one is fading.

Trying to regain composure, maybe breathing and eventually being able to stand up, Theo imagines, more than hopes, that it's Blaise the first one who notices his absence, the one who manages to read well the situation and put two and two together, as he always does, and find where he is. 

But in a strangely comforting and unsurprisingly turn of events, it's Pansy the one who finds him first.

“Theo.” She sounds shaky and small, nothing in comparison of how loud, larger than life, she always sounds. It's like Theo listens to her voice coming from underwater, muffled and distant, unable to break through the panic and the sobs. “Love, come on, _please_.” She's trying to shake him, to move him away from the corpse of his father. “We need to _move_.” She seems anxious, in a hurry, close to panic herself. And he knows this is not safe, and he knows they need to be anywhere else but here.

But Theodore Nott cannot move no matter how hard he tries. He always thought that the death of his father would mean freedom and lightness in unimaginable ways, but instead, the heaviness of his soul it's pushing him further and further to the ground.

Like an apparition, Blaise's face materialise in front of him, and it's like the scattered pieces start to get glued together, just by looking into his eyes. His wand is in his right hand, his left one resting on Theo's closed and shivering fist. His always smug, confident and handsome expression is clouded with exhaustion, mud, blood and fear, as his lips move, but no sound reaches Theo at first, who calmly blinks.

But when his voice finally reaches him, Theo feels he's listening to him speak for the first time. His voice, even laced with worry and apprehension, still sounds sultry, inviting and warm, like wax melting off a tree. “Theo.” He says, and his hand tugs his arm, and Theo knows he's trying to pull him up. “We need to move, we need to move.”

Theo blinks once, twice and thrice, and then nods, trying to look for his voice inside of all his panic and the tightening feeling on his chest, his shaking hands moving to rest on Blaise's legs, but his body still unable to move. “Blaise...” And his name on his lips feels like casting a healing spell, lifting some of the panic away. “H-He's dead.” He looks at him, and the tears streak down his cheeks until they poll in his chin, dripping on Blaise's hands. “He's dead... F-Father is dead.”

There's no time no for heartfelt confessions and talks, and if Theo wasn't so consumed by his sorrow and his pain, he would know. But he still looks for Blaise's comfort in any way, he needs anything he can cling to right then. “I know.” Blaise says, nodding, tugs him again and again, until the force of his arm manages to pull Theo up, with shaky legs and an entire shivering body, leaning heavily against Blaise's chest. “But we need to move, do you trust me?” One of his arms is circling around Theo's waist, as just waits patiently for Theo to say something.

And with the warmth emanating from Blaise's hand expanding all over his back, Theo looks around, and notices for first time his surroundings, the audacity and stupidity of his moves. He's always taken deep pride in being calculating and cautious, but he thinks that, in the end, blood seems thicker than water.

He gives a weak nod, looking at Blaise dark chocolate eyes, and before he can register what's going on, Pansy's holding his free hand, and they are apparating away from the fire, the blood, the school and the war.

Theodore Nott sleeps for two entire days after that, and when he wakes up, it's in the familiarity and the warmth of Blaise's bed, gasping and panting as he has waken up from a bad dream, but he's not dreaming at all, and as always, the reality has surpassed reality.

Blaise is there, sitting next to the bed with a book on his lap, but moves rapidly to sit next to Theo the moment he sees he's awake. And Theo looks at him like he hasn't seen him in months, his mouth moving like he's trying to look for the words he wants to say. “My father is dead.” He finally blurts out, and it feels like last proof, like sealing reality.

And Blaise nods, tentatively, using his index finger to trace it down the smooth skin of his cheek. “Your father is dead, he got killed during the battle.” He hasn't got any further information more than that, since Blaise only wanted to get his mind further away from Hogwarts and the battle, but mostly he wanted to get his mind away from the fire.

But to listen it coming from Blaise's mouth it's not only a confirmation of reality, like a seal, it feels like a promise of something brighter coming his way, and he just nods, leaning against the hand stroking his face so fondly.

And Theodore Nott feels how the weight pulling him to the ground, finally starts to lift away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please follow me at [my tumblr](http://crvdence.tumblr.com)!  
> thanks for reading!


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